


The performing art of getting a date with the smartest guy at school

by PilDoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Performing Arts, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilDoor/pseuds/PilDoor
Summary: Castiel stopped picking his stuff up and lifted his head to look at the guy, mouth open, “You’re…”The guy was picking up books but stopped to look at Castiel. When he didn’t say anything else, the stranger smirked, “What? Incredibly handsome?”“Yeah-“ Castiel flushed bright head when the guy’s smirk intensified, and Castiel shook his head. “No! No, that’s not-! No, what I meant to ask was, if you wouldn’t happen to be Dean Winchester?”The flirty look on Dean’s face melted away, “Oh. Yeah. You’re 4.0 dude, then?” He handed Castiel the books.“I usually go by Castiel, actually,” he said and put the books back in his bag.





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> She's* back!
> 
> Been sick with the flu for the past week so I have 12,000 words of this, and I'm 12,000 years behind on homework.
> 
> *Me. I'm back.

“She needs knee surgery. My mom says her mom was optimistic but can we just be honest for a sec? She’s not gonna be a dancer now. Her mom might as well save her money and put her in public school,” Viktor whispered, despite the empty hall.

A smirk was fixed on Dean’s face, one that fooled Viktor into thinking he was still paying attention, when in reality, he was looking through the glass double doors at the girls stretching in the smaller gym. 

Lisa noticed him and with no other acknowledgement than a smile, she lifted her foot over her head. But Dean wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Anna this week.

She was sitting on the floor, elbows planted on the floor between her thighs, and red hair coming undone from her braid. Dean wondered how much trouble she got in for that. Some teachers did not care as long as long hair was tied up, but Mrs. Naomi Engel accepted nothing but netted buns on the girls.

She had yelled at Dean last week for not bringing his leotard, even though it was only a rehearsal!

Dean winked at Lisa anyway, because having options was nice. 

Abaddon noticed him and Viktor in the hallway as well and gave Dean the finger. Dean didn't care but the vulgar body language had Mrs. Engel finally noticing that her girls were getting distracted and she opened the door, face already red in anger, “Winchester, Henriksen! Go to your own classes!”

Dean faked an apologetic look before running off after Viktor. He caught up to him outside the lavatories.

“What class do you have right now?” Viktor asked. 

Dean shrugged, rising to his toes one foot at a time, “Who cares?”

Viktor frowned, “You’re not going to class?”

“Why would I go now? It’s already fifteen minutes in,” Dean grinned, careless. 

“Dude!” Viktor exclaimed in a whisper, “You’re the _lead_. You _know_ they’re not gonna let that shit fly. They’ll give your part to Bartholomew or something!” he wrinkled his upper lip in disgust at the mere idea.

Dean kept on grinning, “I’ve had a leading role since before freshman year. I’ll be fine.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at his cockiness, “Suit yourself. I’m not taking any chances. I gotta go to English.”

“See ya later, man,” Dean acknowledged and with a last wave he made his way to the park across the school. He still had to wait for the bus that was not coming until 3.15 but the sun was out and Dean had a tennis ball to use in lieu of a foam roller for the next fifty minutes.

 

X

 

Castiel peeked around the corner to the living room. His mom was there, the TV turned to E! but she was sending emojis to Gabriel who was away at ‘college’ in Michigan. That was the story if grandma were to ask, anyway.

She was smiling at her phone, which she was holding in one hand, while she used the index finger of her other hand to type.

“Moooooom,” Castiel dragged as he entered the room, eyes in full-on puppy mode and shoulders slumped for sympathy.

“What is it, sweetie?” she did not look up from her phone.

Castiel leaned against the wall, fiddling with the edge of one piece of eggshell wallpaper overlapping the next, “There’s this show...”

“Uh huh,” Mom said. The phone announced an incoming message.

“Yeeeah, and it’s in the city, but Hanna’s aunt lives there and we can stay with her,” he looked up at her.

She put her phone down and looked at him over the top of her glasses, “Is that so?”

Castiel shuffled into the room and leaned against the arm of the couch. He chose the tassel of a throw pillow to fiddle with next, “And the premiere is this spring.”

Mom cocked her head to the side, “Spit it out, honey.”

“Well, my birthday is in July, you know.” An exasperated nod made him go on, “And the show is in May, so I thought it could be my birthday present.”

“Honey, it’s October.”

Castiel barely refrained from rolling his eyes, “It’s just that the show sells out really quickly. And I wouldn’t ask for anything else, not even for Christmas either! I promise, mom!”

She couldn't help but laugh at his antics then and she opened her arm for Castiel to scoot into her warmth, “Well, sweetie, this show certainly sounds special,” she said and Castiel smiled sweetly up at her, “And I know Hanna and you are very sensible kids and would be fine in the city by yourselves.”

“Yeah?” Castiel said hopefully, eyes big with plea.

“But before next spring you’re going to want something else. Before Christmas too for that matter,” she giggled.

“Mom!” Castiel protested.

“Sorry, Castiel, but I know you,” she continued giggling and Castiel glared. “If it’s so important to you, you’ll just have to get a job, sweetie.”

“A job?” he looked incredulously at her, “Who needs their lawn mowed in October?”

Mom laughed then, “You’ve never mowed a lawn in your life. Maybe do something you know you can do.”

Castiel deflated, “What, like flip hamburgers?”

“You’re a straight A student,” she said with a knowing look. When Castiel just looked confused she rolled her eyes, “How about tutoring?”

 

Castiel typed his scholastic accomplishments and contact information and glared bitterly at the printer as he took a dozen copies to hang at the middle school and library and where ever else those crazy kids and their parents hung out these days.

 

x

 

Dean got home from the gym in the early afternoon on Sunday and entered the kitchen to find his mom making bread.

“Hey ma,” he greeted and wiped residue sweat off his brow with his sleeve while opening the fridge. He got out the chocolate milk. 

“Hey pumpkin,” she said and walked the step and a half over to him to kiss his cheek, “How was your training? You should eat a proper meal, you know.” She said the last part with a pointed look at the carton of chocolaty goodness in Dean’s hand.

Dean ignored that last part and shook the carton to get the residue at the bottom to mix back in, “It was okay. I was with the girls, and Meg only wants to do cardio and Lisa just stretches for two hours,” he rolled his eyes.

He sat at the kitchen island and popped open his drink, “But I’m gonna go with Benny tomorrow.”

“Oh, Dean, you can’t tomorrow!” Mom said, spreading flour on the surface of the kitchen counter to knead her dough.

Dean squinted at the family calendar on the fridge but he was not wearing his glasses, “What’s going on tomorrow?”

Mom rolled her fingers into the dough, back still facing Dean, “I made a tutoring plan for you. Your first session is tomorrow.”

Dean frowned at her back. She said it like he’d be excited but he knew she wasn’t facing him because she wanted to be spared his antics.

He swallowed a gulp of chocolate milk, “What!? _Why_? Shouldn’t you consult me first??”

Mom stopped kneading and turned on the faucet to wash the dough off her hands, “I consulted your grade card,” she turned around and cocked her hip, “Dean, this is serious.”

“Mom, seriously?!” he leaned onto his elbows and stretched his upper body across the kitchen island in aggravation, “I don’t have time for tutoring! I have rehearsals every day after school!” he plopped his hands down in front of him in exasperation. 

Mom flipped a long, blonde lock of hair over her shoulder and popped her hands up on her hips, “Not on Mondays. Which is when you’ll go. And Sunday mornings.”

Dean gaped in disbelief, “Mornings?! When will I sleep?!”

Mom cocked her head, looking tired in that way only moms can look tired, “Please.” 

“But mom!”

Mom looked put out then, and Dean almost felt bad, “You’re going. You’re failing two classes, and no matter how big of a part, I _know_ you can’t take part in the show if you’re failing.”

Dean crossed his arms across his chest petulantly, “That’s frigging Crowley’s fault for not curving my grade. He hates me!”

Mom turned back to her dough, “I don’t care, Dean. You’ll meet _Castiel_ at the library tomorrow at 3.30. He’s a junior like you, and goes to the high school in town. Maybe you’ll even like him.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, an eyebrow raised in defiance, “3.30? Sorry mom, no can do. The bus takes half an hour to just get home.” When he gets the distinct feeling that she’s not listening to a word he’s saying he leans forward over the island top again, “Mom! Then I have to _bike_ to the library and by then I’ll already be late. The tutor guy is gonna think I’m some kind of idiot! If he hasn’t already left at that point!”

Mom gave him a look over her shoulder, “Please, spare me the dramatics.”

Dean gasped, “Mom! It’s what I _DO_!” He almost raised a hand to do spirit fingers.

Mom just rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored the outburst, “Take the car tomorrow then.”

Dean slumped back in defeat, resting his chin in one hand, elbow on the island top. He sighed, “You’re really serious about this.”

Mom turned back around, finally a glimpse of sympathy on her features, and she rested a flour-y hand on Dean’s that was fiddling with an old shopping list. Mom realized then that she forgot to buy peanut butter. “I know you’re smarter than this,” she squeezed his hand and with a twinkle in her eye said, “You just need to spend a little less time trying to impress the girls, and a little more time with your text books.”

Dean grumbled something. He knew he ought to actually do the assignments. The book ones. He always did the performance ones.

Mom was rolling the dough into rolls when she called over her shoulder at him, “Be a sweetheart and take Sam to school tomorrow, will you?”

Dean glared at her back for less than a second in fear she’d somehow catch him doing it. Under his breath he muttered, “Fine. But he’s taking the bus home.”

Now all he could do was hope that the tutor was hot.


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you want to work on the project today?” Hanna asked Castiel, shielding her eyes from the autumn sun and squinting up at him.

Castiel walked the last remaining step down the entrance stairs to the school to get to her, “I can’t. I have an appointment at the library.”

Hanna turned to walk with him, crossing the street where the school buses miraculously avoided hitting any students, “Right. The tutoring. But that’s a good thing. We’ll get to see the show. I mean it’s Heathers, it’s going to be phenomenal.”

Castiel smiled at her, a close-lipped thing, before looking both ways to cross the street.

“Who are you tutoring? A freshman?” Hanna asked. She lived just a block away from school and Castiel was going in that direction anyway.

Castiel slowed down to let her catch up, “No. He does not attend our school. He’s from the academy.”

Hanna frowned, “What? The musical academy?”

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed. 

“I bet they pay you a lot-“ Hanna started but Castiel was late and already sweating.

“Hanna, my apologies, but I have to run. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, I promise. And I will message you tonight when I get a chance to look over the history compendium, and we can choose a figure for the collage,” he said all in one breath.

Hanna nodded, “Okay. See you tomorrow, Castiel. Good luck with the tutoring.”

Castiel waved after her and hurried on his way. He didn’t know much about his student. He knew that his name was Dean, he was a junior like Castiel, and he was failing German and math. 

He also knew that Dean went to the Musical and Dance Academy at the edge of town, and that tuition there cost a fortune. Castiel was running late and could only hope that it would not have costly repercussions. 

Mary Winchester, Dean’s mom, had sounded nice on the phone when she’d called. She had found his number on the middle school’s info board and her eldest was failing two classes, and though he was busy with performing arts, Mrs. Winchester would like to clear out some of his schedule for academia. With the promise of two times two-hour sessions a week, _plus_ any extra time Castiel deemed necessary, Castiel had almost been able to taste the theater next summer. 

Castiel had moved a middle school student who was failing English to Tuesday and told her he was available. She had been ecstatic.

Castiel tried to be above stereotypes, but private school kids and their parents didn’t have a great reputation in this town, and Castiel was late. As a rule, you did not keep that type of people waiting. 

 

He got there ten minutes late and spent another five minutes in the parking lot trying to appear as less of a sweaty mess.

With his trench coat curled up under his arm and his backpack slinging from his elbow, he took the few steps to the main entrance two at a time. That just served to take him back to square one of being a sweaty mess, and he leaned his hands on his knees to catch his breath, whipping his head back to get his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

“Damn,” someone commented from his left, and Castiel turned around to see. The movement was too sudden, and his books fell out of his backpack, pages folding under their weight. Castiel groaned.

“What can be so important in a _library_?” the commentator asked then.

Castiel glared at the guy from where he was kneeling next to his pencil case. Which had been open as well and had made its way out of Castiel’s bag, spilling pencils and highlighters everywhere. The guy was about Castiel’s age and unfairly handsome. He was eating Red Vines and that just aggravated Castiel more.

Castiel glared out of sheer pettiness, “Not that it’s any of your business but I’m late for an appointment.”

The guy held his hands and a half-eaten Red Vine up in defence and got up from where he had been seated on a step. “Let me give you a hand, buddy. My own appointment is already fifteen minutes late, so it’s not like I have anything better to do.” It sounded condescending but when Castiel looked back up at him he was smiling mischievously. 

His words registered then, and Castiel stopped picking his stuff up and lifted his head to look at the guy, mouth open, “You’re…”

The guy was picking up books but stopped to look at Castiel. When he didn’t say anything else, the stranger smirked, “What? Incredibly handsome?”

“Yeah-“ Castiel flushed bright red when the guy’s smirk intensified, and Castiel shook his head. “No! No, that’s not-! No, what I meant to ask was, if you wouldn’t happen to be Dean Winchester?”

The flirty look on Dean’s face melted away, “Oh. Yeah. You’re 4.0 dude, then?” He handed Castiel the books.

“I usually go by Castiel, actually,” he said and put the books back in his bag.

“Right, yeah,” Dean extended a hand to help Castiel up, giving Castiel a once-over, “Isn’t this the dream?” he said rather randomly in Castiel opinion.

Castiel held his hand for too long and scowled at Dean for being weird. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need the distraction of a cute, probably straight, private school kid two hours, twice a week. With _freckles_ for Lord’s sake, and was he wearing sweatpants?

He stalked off for the entrance, letting Dean do what he could to keep up.

 

X

 

Dean woke up too late that Sunday, with only a half hour to spare before meeting Castiel. It was only the second session but it would be an overstatement to say that Dean was looking forward to it. Not because of the tutor. No, that was the one saving grace. But Dean hated schoolwork, and he especially hated spending his spare time doing it. And now he had to tell Cas his grade in biology just dropped to failing as well. Who cared about stupid alleles? 

For all his redeeming qualities, Cas sure had an attitude, and Dean was half scared to tell him the bad news.

The tutor was gorgeous. And crazy smart, and so far, pretty good at covering the material in a way that Dean could understand. But he had a broody quality about him. Like when they had first met, Dean had tried to flirt with him because, gorgeous person = you flirt, that was just how Dean’s brain worked. But Castiel had just stormed off for the library and gone straight to work.

Maybe he was already seeing someone. Or maybe he was straight. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in people who failed three classes.

Castiel had done a good job though, Dean could admit. Yeah, the quizzes were boring as hell but Castiel had clearly put a lot of time into making them. Dean had no doubt, Castiel was a real dedicated little nerd.

When Castiel had gone to go over the quizzes, he had gotten all mad at Dean because he had trouble sitting still, which seriously? Dean had still been jittery from a dance class, and there was nothing to _do_ in the library. Eventually Castiel had just told him to read the textbook, while he’d gone to a different table to grade the quizzes.

Sure, Dean figured the porny images he’d had when he saw how hot his tutor was might be stretch, but sitting alone in a library, reading? For an hour and a half? He could have just stayed home.

But whatever. He had promised his mom he would not make any more fuzz about it, and it was just four hours a week. And Castiel really was cute.

Besides after this session, he was going to the gym with Benny, and he was dead set on beating his PR in chin-ups. Cain was worried about Dean's upper body strength, and anything Cain said was just a challenge to Dean.

He parked his bike outside the library and sat down on the same step he’d sat on last Monday. He pulled his phone out, but Castiel hadn’t texted him so Dean figured he was running late again. Dean ran a hand down his leggings clad calf. There was still some faded dirt on the one leg from the outside run a few days ago. He was wearing a pair of loose shorts over them, since he did not see any point in going home to change into gym clothes and Benny was picking him up at the library at 12pm anyway.

Castiel looked like he should have been wearing gym clothes himself when he once again came running up the stairs to where Dean sat, gasping and sweating this time too.

“Dude,” Dean grinned at him, “We can just agree to meet later if you can’t make it.”

“No-no,” Castiel held up a hand, “I just got up too late. My apologies.”

Dean grinned up at him, “And what is your excuse for Monday?”

Castiel grumbled, “My classes end at 3.15pm. I can’t make the walk here that fast.”

Dean got up and dusted off his butt, “Hm. Well, no worries.” He turned to walk with Castiel, “I have the car on Mondays. I could pick you up from school?”

Castiel looked up at him in surprise, “Oh, uh, yes. That would be nice. Thank you, Dean.”

“Sure.” They were standing in the study area by then, and Dean slung his bag onto a table before sitting down.

“After your quizzes last week, I was thinking we start with conjugation. Your vocabulary is fine, the problem seems to lie with the grammar," Castiel said then, getting out his laptop and opening up to, no doubt, send an exercise sheet to the printer.

 

They were 45 minutes in when Castiel looked up from his homework and caught Dean not paying attention. Instead of doing the past conjugation of _haben_ , Dean was silently flirting with a college student a few tables over.

Castiel frowned and turned to see who Dean was making eyes at. When he saw the blonde, he turned back to glare at Dean, annoyed at his lack of attention, “If you find it hard to concentrate at the library, perhaps we should study elsewhere.”

“Come on, dude. This shit is boring!” Dean complained.

Castiel cocked his head, “Is the material too easy?”

Dean shrugged and looked back at the college student twirling a lock of hair around her finger. 

Castiel frowned again, blood starting boil at Dean’s obvious disregard for what they were doing. He closed his book with a loud thud and started to pack up.

“Dude, what? We still have an hour left!” Dean said.

“I’m aware. We’re going somewhere else. I will not sit around and watch you flirt for another hour when it’s my job to get you to pass your classes,” he zipped his bag with determination, not caring if Dean thought he was some geeky slave driver. 

Dean rolled his eyes but followed Castiel, as he made his way back to a secluded area of the library. Castiel demanded Dean’s phone in prevention of setting them further back. Dean had just confessed he was failing a third class now as well, which put Castiel’s planned schedule for Dean back. There was no time for distractions.

Castiel could not believe how much he cared about this stupid job. He was getting paid no matter what grade Dean got as long as Mary believed Castiel had tried. But to Castiel, challenges were made to be overcome, and he always gave his all.

Dean finished his work not long after, and Castiel helped him out with chemistry, even though it was not not included in the tutoring deal. Call it preventative work.

“How many moles of natrium do you need?” Castiel asked, pointing to a blank lab recipe, which Dean seemed to tend to fill out like a mad libs leaflet.

Dean scratched the back of his head and glanced at Castiel.

Castiel tried not to be impatient. They had been at the library for a long time now, and Dean had been working hard at the other subjects once they moved away from the leggy college girl. “We just went over it, Dean,” he said and pointed to the open page in the textbook.

“I’m sorry! Ugh, it’s just… This shit is so boring!” Dean complained, “I don’t know how you can find this interesting!”

Castiel leaned back and studied Dean. Did he really think Castiel genuinely _enjoyed_ doing homework? He enjoyed results. He told Dean, “I don’t find all of it interesting. I apply myself to my schoolwork because I want to do well.”

“But how do you _care_?” Dean asked, as his resolution at the beginning of each semester was to do more homework but he never made it past one month. If even the first week.

“I have a plan,” Castiel folded his hands in front of him on the table, for some reason ready to share the plan he’d made when he first moved to this town as a freshman, “I’m leaving this town when I graduate, and my mom can’t afford Harvard, but that’s where I intend to go. I will do the work, I will get the scholarships and I will study medicine.”

“Oh, fancy,” Dean did an impressed down-turn of the corners of his mouth, “A doctor.”

“It’s my dream - nae, it’s my plan.” Castiel squared his shoulders, “I work hard because I’m going to Harvard.”

Dean looked… somewhat impressed. He went to an expensive private school and Castiel knew that competition there was fierce. But maybe everyone was used to just having things handed to them.

Dean leaned closer to Castiel, eyes wide in something like admiration, “That’s really cool, Cas. I had to idea you were so badass,” he grinned.

Castiel shrunk a little, suddenly self-conscious. He was not sure ‘badass’ was the right term. “Just find what drives you,” he mumbled while looking down at the tabletop quickly, before sliding the paper back to Dean, “And finish your lab report.”

Dean accepted the sheet from him and drew the textbook closer. He read for a little and started filling in the information before sitting back.

Castiel did not react, not wanting to give in to yet another of Dean’s distractions.

“I have ambition, you know,” he told Castiel.

Castiel looked up from his own notes then, surprised at Dean bringing it back up. He knew the academy’s reputation. If you didn’t have drive, you didn’t stay there. “… I don’t doubt that.”

“I’m going to be a dancer - a musical performer,” Dean nodded to convince Castiel that this was a plan - not a dream - as well, “That’s why I spend so much time on training. But I guess I have to keep up with the boring stuff too, huh?”

“I’m afraid so,” Castiel said, a look ironic remorse on his face. He was glad that Dean seemed to have some sort of epiphany. One that would make Castiel’s job a whole lot easier too.

Dean grinned at the response, then shrugged, “Well, if I’m not headhunted straight out high school, I’m going to need to credits to get into Julliard, anyway.”

Castiel smiled, happy that Dean was taking some responsibility. “Well, there’s your drive,” Castiel said, smiling with his teeth and everything.

Dean grinned right back, and they sat like that for a moment: two motivated idiots grinning at each other. 

Then Castiel had to go and ruin it, “Let’s move on to biology.”

 

They finished in comfortable silence aside stray questions about scholastics and then they made their way through the library, Dean texting away on his phone. He looked up and around, and slapped Castiel’s arm upon spotting a vending machine, “Hey, I need a redbull. Do you want anything?”

“No thank you,” Castiel assured him, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Dean didn’t accept a decline, “Aw c’mon Cas. A Pepsi? Bag of Skittles?”

“I’m really okay,” Castiel said, shaking his head at Dean’s offer. Having Dean buy him treats would be weird. Pep talk or not, he was pretty sure the private school student did not like him very much.

“I’m getting you a Pepsi,” Dean elbowed him and made his way to the machine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is barely edited so let me know if there are any mistakes that just can't be overlooked :)

Dean had only snuck out on two dates with Anna before he had to face the truth. It wasn’t working. 

He was a few weeks into November and well over a month into the tutoring, and while it showed on his grade card, he still wasn’t allowed to date until he got his grades up, and when he’d told Anna, she had miraculously understood. Academia before hoes or whatever.

In spite of his mother’s ‘no distractions’ rule (and Castiel’s, to be honest) Dean had already found a new object of his affections. An object with which he was already spending 4 hours a week. The object just didn’t know it yet. 

Dean didn’t really understand it. He had never had a type, and if he did, it certainly hadn’t been the nerd. Anna was a hot, goody two shoes nerd, and they couldn’t connect? But who else in Dean’s life was a hot, goody two shoes nerd? It didn’t really make sense, but hey, what are you gonna do?

The heart wanted what it wanted, and apparently that was a dark-haired, pedantic nerd who actually used color-coordinated markers.

 

X

 

Dean was doing rehearsal with Viktor and some of the other bigger characters that Sunday. It ended up running late, like these things tended to, and then he spent another 20 minutes goofing around with Viktor and Bela. That meant he had to skip the shower if he didn’t want to be late. And he didn’t. His mom had taught him not to be.

Castiel was waiting outside of his house when Dean rolled up to the curb. He opened the door from inside and smiled apologetically at Castiel. There had been some tension between them for the first few weeks; misperceptions and misplaced prejudice and in the beginning it had been uncomfortable. But Dean felt like they’d were doing pretty well now. 

For one, Cas didn’t have a stick up his ass anymore. Except maybe for the times Dean would talk about girls, but he tried not to do it since it bothered Castiel so much. There had been some awkwardness the past week once Dean had told him he was dating Anna, but Dean had solved that problem.

“Hey Cas! Sorry for letting you wait,” he said, smiling brightly. Castiel brother was home on visit this weekend, and apparently that meant they had to go to Dean’s house. Dean didn’t mind. It was always easier on one’s own turf.

Castiel got in and barely met Dean’s eye, “Oh, you didn’t. I’ve only been waiting a few minutes,” he fumbled with the seat belt.

“Good,” Dean commented lamely and started driving.

There was some silence and Dean fumbled with the radio, then turned it off when he couldn’t get back from the static stations. He started whistling instead. Castiel leafed through some boring-looking work sheets.

“So how’s your week been?” Dean asked, unable to cope with the awkward silence. 

Castiel leaned back in his seat and exhaled through his nose before looking at Dean. “Trying,” he said, but he did not seem mad at Dean anymore.

“What happened?” Dean asked, before he could wonder if that was intrusive.

“Just… Group assignments with Neanderthals, and a B minus in history, and then my brother’s visit, of course, as just the cherry on top.” Castiel shared.

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes at the B minus comment. Seriously, what a nerd. “What’s so bad about your brother?”

“He is the most annoying person on the planet and he has no respect for other people’s property,” Castiel clenched his fist and Dean thought that was kind of adorably amusing.

“What, did he fart on your pillow or something?” Dean grinned.

Castiel rolled his eyes but let out a huff of a laugh, “No doubt. But I was referring to the whole load of whites he turned pink yesterday, and the several hours he spent purposefully putting my notes in the wrong folders.”

Dean chuckled. For a little brother, Cas sure had it easy.

“Hm,” Dean mumbled, “I think you could pull off pink.”

Castiel almost swore at him, and Dean felt good that things were more comfortable between them.

 

X

 

They got to Dean’s house and got set up in Dean’s room, and were just about ready to begin, but Dean could not deny it. He could smell himself.

“Is it okay if I shower first? It won’t be five minutes, I just feel all sticky and gross,” he asked Castiel, pleading as if Castiel probably could not smell him as well. He figured his mom was paying for every minute Castiel spent there anyway.

“Okay,” Castiel said with a nod, looking caught off guard.

Dean made quick work of his shower. He did not even wash his hair or manscape.

Castiel was typing away on his laptop when Dean made it back to his room, “You started without me?” Dean joked.

Castiel looked up confused, and then a little surprised. He eyes flickered to the towel around Dean’s waist and back to his laptop screen. He cleared his throat, “I was reviewing some history notes.”

“Right,” Dean made for his closet, behind Castiel. It didn’t occur to him until now that walking in here half naked might be a little weird. He was damaged from years of showering with classmates after practices and a pretty unabashed attitude to changing in front of classmates in the middle of the classrooms. Sam very often told him he had an a little too healthy attitude towards nudity.

Castiel stared fixedly at his keyboard and Dean quickly pulled on a pair of underwear, followed by a pair of jeans. His pulled a t-shirt over his head and rolled his eyes while Castiel could not see him. “I’m dressed now. You can look,” he said teasingly.

Castiel shot a glare over his shoulder, before frowning and looking at Dean properly.

Dean rolled his eyes again and checked his fly, “What’s wrong now?”

Castiel shook his head, “Nothing. Nothing, I just- I’ve never seen you in jeans,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help but to burst out laughing.

When he thought about it he guessed he was mostly in his ratty old dance wear around Cas. And the uniform. “Well, right back at ya. You know, I don’t actually choose to wear that uniform,” Dean said and sat down next to his tutor.

Castiel shrugged, “I think it’s nice.”

“Tough shit, I’m not wearing it on a Sunday,” Dean said. He hated that uniform.

Castiel blushed slightly but Dean could not imagine why. He could only think about how cute it was. “Uhm, the jeans… the jeans are nice too,” Castiel all but coughed out.

Dean chuckled, “Thanks, Cas. You look dashing as well. You wanna keep hitting on each other or should we get this shit over with?”

Castiel’s blush deepened and he handed Dean a sheet of math problems, which cooled Dean’s mood instantly.

They worked silently for a while after that, only interrupted by a quick snack brought to them by Mary. 

But Dean could not sit still for long. He never was able to. And soon, what started as a jittery foot, became a full-on stomp concert with pens and pencils and even the wheels under his chair rolling on the carpet.

He broke the lead of his mechanical pencil four times in a row before picking up a pen instead. He click-clicked it against the table incessantly and waited for Castiel’s response. He got nothing and soon forgot his efforts to annoy. He started doodling instead.

He had drawn two robots fighting in a Walmart parking lot under one equation when Castiel finally reacted.

“Will you please focus on your work?” Castiel asked without even looking up.

Dean leaned across the table, “But I’m booooored.”

“You’re also failing,” Castiel said and Dean guffawed at that burn.

“You’re mean,” he said, still unable to keep a grin off his face though.

Castiel looked up finally, “I’m helping you.”

“How do you stay so disciplined? Don’t you wanna do something fun instead?” Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged, “I enjoy studying and seeing it in the results.”

“Seriously? I know you’re going to be a doctor but don’t you ever just wanna party with your friends or something?” Dean scooted his chair closer to Castiel.

“I can’t imagine I spend any more time on school than you do, Dean,” Castiel argued, and huh, he was probably right. But dancing was fun. Math? Not so much.

“Besides,” Castiel continued, “It’s not like I get invited to tons of parties.”

Dean frowned, “Why? You’re cute.” From what he remembers from public school, that was all it took to be with the in crowd.

“I’m a nerd,” Castiel shrugged indifferently.

Dean grinned, “Yeah, but you’re a cute nerd.”

Castiel gave Dean a look, “Where are you going with this?”

Dean’s grin widened when he realized where he _could_ go with this. A beat passed before he asked, “Are you single?”

Castiel looked taken aback, “Uhm, yes. I am.”

“Why?” Dean asked and smirked, “And don’t gimme that _I’m a nerd_ excuse either.”

“I don’t know,” Castiel shrugged and looked down at his keyboard.

“Come on,” Dean leaned closer, “With a face like yours? There must be reason.”

Castiel glared at Dean, “It’s not like I have time to go on stupid dates. I’m in AP classes, I’m the president of two clubs. I volunteer.”

When Dean just lifted a skeptical eyebrow at him, he went on: “Even if I did have time, I wouldn’t have anyone _to_ date. There are two openly gay guys at my school, neither of whom I’ve exchanged more than two words with. There’s no one for me. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, surprised, “Wait, you’re gay?”

Castiel cleared his throat and fiddled with a sheet of notebook paper. Dean felt guilty that he made him uncomfortable. Then he remembered that he knew one of those two gay guys at Castiel’s school.

“Hey, is one of them called Aaron?”

Castiel frowned, “Huh?”

“The two gay guys at your school. One of them is Aaron, right?” Dean asked, grin back on his face.

“Uh, yeah? Where are you going-?” Castiel was cut off.

“I went out with him,” Dean said nonchalantly. 

Castiel did a visible double-take, “You what?”

Dean shrugged and failed to keep another grin off his face, “Yeah, I mean he was a nice kid and all but he just… He didn’t have any _drive_ , you know? I mean, I know I’m failing three classes, but I care a lot about the other stuff. The dancing, you know? He just didn’t have ambition.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked straight at Castiel for his next part, “Not like you, wanting to go to med school and keeping straight A’s plus extra credit. There’s something hot about ambition, am I right? People who know what they want?” He smirked, waiting to see if the comment went in.

Castiel blushed again and looked briefly down before meeting Dean’s eyes again, “I… Yes.”

Dean smiled wide. He had one foot in.


	4. Chapter 4

Upon deciding that Castiel was not to be single for much longer, Dean started arranging their study dates to be at a cafe in town. If their sessions took place in a public place where you can eat, it was practically a legitimate date, he figured.

It wasn’t like Castiel was objecting to Dean buying him food and coffee either, and it only took a few sessions at the cafe before that became their regular venue, and the way Dean counted it, that Monday was already their fourth date.

Since his mom needed the car to carpool Sam and some of his buddies back from soccer practice, Dean couldn’t give Castiel a ride that Monday. Instead he found him already at their regular table when he finally made his way to the cafe.

“Hey,” he said, stripping free of his jacket and school uniform blazer, sweaty from the bike ride across town.

“Hello Dean. I got you coffee and a muffin,” Castiel said, smiling up at him from his seat across the table.

Dean melted a little bit on the spot, “For all your talk of no romance, you sure know the way to a guy’s heart.”

Castiel’s face was soon covered with an endearingly bright blush and he studied the tabletop as he said: “Uhm, it’s just a muffin, so…”

Dean smiled down at him for a few seconds, before taking a seat next to him. 

“What are we doing today?”

That returned Castiel to normal, and he perked up to ruffle through a homemade math compendium, the freak.

“If my spreadsheet calculated your schedule correctly, you should have a math quiz coming up. We should review the past chapter.”

Dean sunk down in his seat and groaned, “Goddamn differentiation!”

Castiel smiled at his antics, “Calm down. If you want, we could also practice Akkusativ?”

Dean wrinkled his nose, “Ew, no thanks.”

Castiel slid a worksheet in front of him, “That’s what I thought.”

Dean looked at the paper with disgust for a few seconds before straightening up in his seat, “You know how we were talking about motivation?”

“Yeah?” Castiel looked at him expectantly.

“Well, I think I lost it,” Dean complained.

Castiel rolled his eyes, “Dean, seriously? Why is it always two steps ahead and one back with you?”

Dean gaped at him in mock-offense.

“You know what I mean,” Castiel relented, “What would motivate you right now?”

Dean sighed, put-upon, “Well, you already bought me a muffin, so nothing, really.”

Castiel smirked, which was rare and all sorts of hot, as he pulled the plate away from Dean, leaving it at the other end of the table, “I’m taking it back until you’ve finished math then.”

“You can’t just do that!” Dean exclaimed, leaning forward to try and reach for the baked good.

Castiel pushed Dean back, a hand on his chest, “I can, and I will.”

Dean stood up then, grinning at their stupid game, “I can’t think without food! Cas, I need the muffin!”

“No! Sit down!” Castiel grabbed Dean’s wrists and swung them down, away from the muffin. It only resulted in Dean losing his balance at the sudden movement, and soon he found himself pretty well-situated in Cas’ lap.

He pushed off the table, cheeks aflame, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to squish you there,” he stammered, trying to regain equilibrium.

“No, it was my fault, sorry for pulling you,” Castiel said, eyes wide in apology and cheeks reddened once again.

Dean scrambled off Cas, sitting back on his own chair, “I just lost my balance,” he explained, trying to brush away the awkwardness.

It was silent between them for a bit and finally Dean grabbed the worksheet, figuring math would dissipate the atmosphere.

“D-Do you want your muffin?” Castiel asked after another minute of silence and Dean looked up at him.

Castiel held out the plate with the muffin, eyes big and blue and right on Dean.

Dean couldn’t help it, he burst out in laughter. Castiel squinted, “What’s so funny?”

Dean just continued laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Who cared about a stupid muffin? Luckily Castiel soon saw the humor in the situation too, and his questioning look transformed with his smile as he started laughing too.

After a while they quieted down again, and Dean wiped a tear from his eye, “That fucking muffin,” he mumbled, lips still turned in a smile.

Castiel chuckled off, “Yeah, I guess our focus isn’t at its best today.”

Dean looked at Cas in silence for a second, “I'm not just saying this to get out of studying but do you wanna do something else?”

“You know what? Yeah, I do,” Castiel started collecting his books and notebooks, “There’s no reason to try and study when we’re clearly in not in the right space of mind.”

“Do you wanna go back to my place? We could watch a movie and then study after if we’re up for it?” Dean suggested.

Castiel was quick to acquiesce and together they biked back to Dean’s house.

 

X

 

They were a few episodes into some Teens and up TV show when Castiel started feeling guilty about not studying.

“Is your mom going to be mad that we’re not studying?” he asked Dean.

The other boy shrugged, “Nah, we can just reschedule another time this week, I guess.”

“Yeah, I suppose we can,” Castiel agreed, “When would be a good time for you?”

Dean seemed to think it over before shrugging and looking innocently at Cas, “Saturday night?”

Castiel frowned, “That’s what you want to do on a Saturday night? Study with me?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed but corrected himself, “Or not studying in particular but doing anything with you.”

Castiel looked suspicious, “You want to ‘do anything’ with me?”

“You don’t have to make an innuendo out of it but yeah,” Dean looked questioningly at Cas, like he didn’t understand the suspicion, “It’s not like we’re studying right now either, is it?”

“I thought that was just to get out of studying,” Castiel said, still confused at Dean’s admission.

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled at Cas, “You’re a fucking moron. If it was just to get out of studying then why would I ask you to come over? Just because you’re tutoring me it doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with out. I _do_ want to. I’d prefer not studying but honestly, it doesn’t even matter as long as it’s with you.”

Castiel thought over Dean’s words but didn’t think his conclusion made any sense. Sure, they got along better now than in the beginning, and maybe they could even be considered tentative friends but it didn't make sense to Cas, “What are you saying?”

The smile on Dean’s face took on a different note though didn’t wane. It just looked more disappointed, “I think you know what I’m saying, Cas.”

When Castiel didn’t comment right away, Dean went on:

“I know you have that stupid rule about dating in high school, and that’s fine. I know I’m not gonna get you to actually go on a date with me,” Dean told him, “But when it comes to you, I’ll take what I can get.”

Castiel tipped his head, considering his words, “You’ll… take what you can get?”

Dean waved a hand in front of him, “Yeah.”

Castiel smiled to himself before locking eyes with Dean and reaching his hand out to rest on top of Dean’s, “Me too.”

It was Dean’s turn to look confused then and he looked down at their joined hands, curling his pinky around Cas’, “Huh?”

Castiel shrugged nonchalantly, “I just… I think if you were to ask me on a date, I might make an exception.”

Dean’s expression lightened up into a smile, “Well then, what are you doing on Saturday?”

“Oh no, Dean,” Castiel said, a playful glint in his eye, “We already rescheduled the tutoring for Saturday.”

Dean gaped, “You can’t be serious!”

Castiel grinned and interlaced their fingers, “We’ll see.”

X

 

Despite being busy with rehearsals and homework, Dean’s week seemed to be moving infinitely slowly as he counted down the seconds to 6pm Saturday.

He knew Castiel had said that they might just study, but something about the way he had said it had Dean optimistic.

It also had him uncharacteristically interested in looking just right as he spent Saturday afternoon pent up with nervous energy.

Sam was lounging on his bed as Dean pulled off another T-shirt.

“Aren’t you just gonna study?” Sam asked, looking up from the book he’d grabbed off of Dean’s nightstand and was no doubt losing the bookmark’s place in.

Dean pulled a hanger with a button down out from his closet before deciding that a button down would be too obvious.

“So?” He mumbled going back to his drawer to try and find the green Henley he knew had to be somewhere.

“So why are you doing this? Aren’t you usually in your gross gym clothes anyway?” Sam asked

Dean threw a pair of used tights he found on the floor at him, grinning when Sam squealed in disgust. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, pulling the sought-after Henley over his head and turning to look at himself in the mirror. 

Sam rolled his eyes and got off the bed, “You are such a diva.”

As Sam made his way out of the room, Dean mumbled “And you’re such a bitch,” after him. He looked at himself in the mirror again and regretted how much he cared about his stupid outfit. Castiel probably wouldn’t even notice anyway.

The way to get in his good graces was to study ahead, and Dean figured that the likelihood of getting out of tutoring would be greater if he finished his homework beforehand anyway.

 

Castiel was dropped off by his mother soon enough, and Dean had to shove Sam to get to the door first.

He was still pushing his little brother’s head out of the way when he greeted Cas. “Hey Cas,” he smiled and whispered, “Stop kicking!” to his brother behind him.

They finally let Castiel in and he toed off his shoes before following the brothers into the kitchen. There he dumped his book bag on a bar stool before greeting Mary.

“Christ, you really are just gonna study?” Sam exclaimed, rolling his eyes at his hopeless big brother.

Mary shot Dean a confused look and Castiel acted like he had no idea what was going on.

“You’re still studying?” Mary asked, “I thought your grades were up?”

Dean tried not to look panic-stricken at being outed, “Uh only in biology.”

“Figures,” Sam muttered under his breath and then had to swerve to miss getting hit by his brother.

“Anyway, we’re going to my room,” Dean said, hoping to escape before his family could make things worse.

His mom promised to call them for dinner and they disappeared up the stairs.

 

“You didn’t tell me you got a passing grade in biology,” Castiel mentioned, pulling a notebook out from his bag.

Dean shrugged, “Last assignment put me at a B. But I’m only pulling D’s in math and German.”

Castiel looked excited, “But you’re not failing anymore.”

“No, but they’re just D’s,” Dean argued. 

“Well, it’s still something to be proud of,” Castiel decided. “Maybe we can forego the studying tonight and celebrate instead,” he said, a sneaky smile on his face.

That was how they found themselves sitting shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip on Dean’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop, which wasn't exactly a _date_ but wasn't studying either.

Unfortunately the movie they chose happened to be some stupid 90's teen flick with in improbably plot, flying cars and dominating love story. It was impossible to pay attention to.

Castiel spent the time thinking over what happened the last time he was here. They hadn’t been studying then either, and Dean had said that he wanted to date him. Castiel had even held his hand! He had been freaking out about it all week and eventually convinced himself that he had completely misunderstood Dean and it was some mean prank.

By the time he had been ready to go to Dean’s place today, he had been dead set on studying.

But if Dean wasn’t failing anymore, it meant that soon they probably wouldn’t get to see each other anymore. Not knowing what Dean had meant would be a regret that Castiel wasn’t sure he could live with.

“Hey Dean?” he asked finally.

“You wanna watch something else?” he asked knowingly, like he’d just been waiting for one of them to say it.

“Uh, no it’s- I don’t care… What did you mean the last time I was here?” he asked stupidly.

Dean paused the movie and looked at him, “You wanna clarify?”

Castiel was caught between feeling of sitting too close and wanting to get infinitely closer.

“About- About the dating stuff?” He had a hard time meeting Dean’s eyes, already almost sure that Dean had meant something else. Hot private school boys just didn’t fall for Cas. That was just not his life.

Dean shook his head vaguely, “I thought it was pretty obvious? I like you.”

Castiel cleared his throat to buy time, “You like me?”

Dean bit his lower lip and Castiel couldn’t help but to follow the movement with his eyes. “Cas, I like you so much that I did my homework so that we didn’t have to study tonight.”

Castiel chuckled at that confession, “Well, I suppose that can be motivation too.”

Dean grinned, “The best there is.”

Castiel licked his lips, eyeing Dean’s own before meeting his eyes, “Maybe you deserve a reward. One that's not just a shitty movie on a laptop screen.”

Dean didn’t say anything, he just sucked his lower lip between his teeth again, wetting them.

Castiel had never been one for social initiative, especially not sexually, and he wasn’t supposed to date in high school, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to fall for Dean Winchester.

He guessed none of that mattered anymore as he leaned forward, closing the few inches of space between them to press his lips to Dean’s.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY for the wait! I'm behind in like seven classes even though I'm only taking five, so time for writing has been few and far between. On break now, so hopefully the next update won't take 7 years.

Since the kiss the study sessions changed notably. For one, flirting was off the ban list. Dean could nibble suggestively on pens and sit way too close to Cas now. 

Dean made sure to wear his school uniform more often after discovering just how much Castiel liked it, and Castiel somehow managed to make German propositions kinda sexy. But only kinda.

There was a lot more handholding now too, and thigh grabbing under the table. They were so lovey dovey it would have made Dean sick if it hadn’t been him and Cas. _Him and Cas_.

Despite the welcomed flirting, Cas was just as hard to crack as before. Dean still needed to finish all his worksheets before Cas would let him get to the good stuff. It was a lot more rewarding than before. Besides, they spent a lot more time _not_ studying now. They still had the planned schedule, but they managed to see each other several days a week on top of that. Dean didn’t know how they managed it, with all the rehearsals and Castiel’s clubs and volunteering. But they did. And when they didn’t they’d be ringing up their phone bills instead.

It was great.

-

That evening Dean came home late after rehearsals. He dumped his schoolbag on the floor in the hallway, shouting an “I’m home!” to his mom and Sam in the kitchen before making for his bedroom.

He only needed a quick shower and a change of clothes before he’d be on his way to see Cas.

Sam appeared in the doorway to Dean’s room while Dean pulled out clothes to change into.

“Dinner’s ready soon,” Sam informed him.

Dean stopped rummaging in his sock drawer and sighed, “Fuck me. Did I forget to call mom? I’m headed back out in a bit.”

Sam entered his room fully, sitting on Dean’s bed, “Where are you going?”

Dean didn’t look up from his drawer, “Out.”

“Oh, 'out', okay,” Sam mocked. “Do you have a new girlfriend? Mom said you can’t have one until you pass your classes,” Sam said, and Dean could hear his stupid little brother smile on his voice.

“Fuck off, Sam. It’s just Cas,” Dean said.

It deterred Sam who said incredibly, “You’re going out to do homework? And _I’m_ the nerd?”

Dean turned to him with a smirk, “You are a nerd, nerd. Tell Mom I’m not staying?” he asked and made for the bathroom.

“Yeah yeah,” Sam agreed.

After getting ready Dean made his way to the kitchen, “Hey mom,” he said, kissing her cheek, “I’m headed back out.”

“Wait! Hang on,” she said and Dean backed up. Her and Sam were still in the middle of dinner. It smelled so good that Dean kind of regretted not staying.

“I’ve barely seen you the last couple of days,” she said, smiling, “I miss you.”

Dean sat down on the edge of a chair, “We’re rehearsing everyday now. It has to be perfect.”

Mary gave him a knowing smile, “I’m thinking it’s not all rehearsals, sweetie. I can smell your cologne.”

Dean tried his hardest not to blush. Judging by Sam’s snicker, he was unsuccessful. He tried to shrug nonchalantly anyway, “Just wanna smell good.”

“Okay,” she said innocently.

“Can I go?” Dean asked before she could get away with more observations.

“Sure,” she went back to her food and Dean got up, “Have fun studying.” She said as he left and Sam and her both snickered. 

Dean rolled his eyes. Was he really that obvious?

 

-

 

“Can you _stop_?” Dean did not whine.

Castiel didn’t look up from his laptop, “Let me just finish this slide,” he mumbled.

Dean rolled his eyes and laid back down on Cas’ bed. Cas had asked him to come over and hang out, but Dean had been there for 40 minutes and Castiel had barely looked at him yet.

Apparently, he had some big history presentation coming up the next day and Dean should have known better when he decided to date a nerd. 

Dean flipped the channel on Cas’ TV again. It was muted but the last few minutes of Indiana Jones were on. 

He had seen it enough times that he knew what was happening, and he soon became focused on trying to remember the exact lines, trying to read the actors’ lips for confirmation. 

He didn’t even notice Castiel close his laptop, and suddenly he found himself with a lapful of Cas.

“All done,” Castiel smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes playfully, “Finally. I’ve only been here for an hour.”

Castiel did look sort of guilty at that, “I’m sorry. But I promised Hanna I would finish the PowerPoint tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and tried to wiggle his way to make better room for the two of them on Cas’ bed.

Castiel laid on his stomach, chin resting on Dean’s chest as he looked up at him, “How can I make it up to you?” he asked, innocently fingering the collar of Dean’s shirt.

Dean smirked, following Castiel’s train of thought, “I like the way you think.”

Castiel’s hands moved down Dean’s chest, slipping under the hemline of his T-shirt to trail his nails up his sides, smiling innocently at Dean. Dean bit his lip.

Castiel leaned in closer to Dean’s face, eyes heavy lidded and focused on his lips. “Do you?”

Dean’s breath hitched and he nodded, afraid his voice would betray him and crack if he tried to speak.

“That’s good,” Castiel said, mouth getting closer, “Since I am tutoring you and all.”

“Huh?” Dean frowned, eyes on Castiel lips that were quirked in a small smirk.

Castiel grinned and sat up, “Maybe we ought to study. Your German grammar could use some work.”

Dean’s frown deepened and he held on to Castiel to keep him in place, “I know what you’re trying to do. I’ll have you know I got a B on the last test. And a 100% score on the preposition part.”

Castiel smiled genuinely then, happy to hear about Dean’s success, “Really? You should have told me! Dean, that’s great.”

Dean shrugged, “Yeah. So get back down here.”

Castiel chuckled, “Fine. But only because you got a 100% in prepositions.”

“Whatever,” Dean mumbled, finally catching Castiel’s lips with his own and pressing a thigh between his legs.

-

For once Dean didn’t have any plans. He had the whole day stretching out in front of him, and he didn’t even have any real homework to speak of, since Castiel never wanted to fool around before it was finished, and Dean always wanted to fool around.

He had stayed at Castiel’s place late the night before, and by the time he had made his way home the lights had been out, the house silent and his mom had been fast asleep. Sam had probably still been up, reading with a flashlight under his blanket or something, the nerd.

Sam was still asleep that morning. Dean could hear him snoring all the way from his room. He didn’t really have anything to get to, which made him too antsy to go back to sleep. Instead he made his way downstairs. 

Mom was in the kitchen, bent over a sudoku in the newspaper while she waited for the coffee machine to finish.

John had gotten her one of those shiny, fancy stainless-steel espresso machines last Christmas. Most likely out of guilt. No one in the household particularly cared about the quality of their coffee as much as they cared about their caffeine levels. Dean had spent too much time hating John already, and if John wanted to pretend that fancy kitchen appliances made up for abandonment then Dean didn’t care enough to fight about it anymore.

“’Morning Mom,” he greeted her, leaning against the island across from her.

“’Morning sweetie,” Mom scratched out a wrong number with her pen and tried to write something else before looking up at him, “I didn’t hear you get in last night.”

Dean found a keychain to fiddle with to avoid looking at his mom, “Nah, I guess it got kinda late.”

He could feel her eyes bore into him, “Mhmm.”

When he said nothing she shifted, and a playful note was in her voice when she said, “Just at Castiel’s studying all night, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean still refused her eye, “Pretty much.” A glimpse of eye contact.

“You’re going to end up as one of those straight A students we hear so much about,” mom said, smiling at him before turning to pour two cups of coffee. Handing one to Dean who finally met her eyes, she asked his plans for the day.

Dean shrugged and took a sip of the coffee, “I guess I’m gonna bug Sam.”

Mom smiled in a warm mother-way, “It’s been a while since you two have had proper brother bonding time.”

Dean rolled his eyes. They weren’t characters on the Little House on the Prairie. They didn’t _do_ bonding time. “Sure thing, mom.”

It was mom’s turn to roll her eyes then, at his attitude. She fished out her wallet from her purse on the counter though, and handed Dean a twenty-dollar bill, “You should go to the movies or something.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Dean said, “I’m gonna go throw water on him now or something.”

As he made his way out of the kitchen, his mom yelled, “Remember to cover the marks on your neck from ‘ _studying_ ’!”

Dean tried his best not to blush.

 

-

Castiel was in the library during study hall that Wednesday. As he was every Wednesday. 

Hanna was next to him, as always, being way more productive than Castiel.

For some reason, he had a hard time focusing on maths and not green eyes and dancer’s thighs.

“What did you get in 7 b?” Hanna asked, sliding her paper over, ready to compare results.

“Hm?” Castiel looked at her. 

“In Calc?” she frowned at him, “Haven’t you done it?”

Castiel tried his best not to blush, “No, I ah, I’ve been a little preoccupied lately.”

Hanna continued frowning, “With what?”

“Uh, tutoring?” Castiel said, eyes firmly on his paper to avoid meeting Hanna’s.

Hanna leaned on her elbow, facing him fully now, “Is that a question?”

“No,” Castiel glanced at her, “I have been tutoring. Dean’s show is coming up and he needs passing grades to participate.”

Hanna lifted her eyebrows, “Tutoring Dean, huh?”

“Mhm,” Castiel grabbed his pencil where he’d left it on the table and leaned forward to pretend to go back to his homework.

Hanna stared at the side of his face for a few seconds, wanting to crack him without having to say a word. After a few seconds she opened her mouth to speak anyway.

Before she could, she was intercepted by Charlie, who was in Castiel’s P.E. class.

She was leaning back on the hind legs of her chair from where she’d been sitting at a table behind them, “Dude! Are you Dean’s tutor?”

Castiel and Hanna gave each other a confused look before turning to look at Charlie.

“Yes?” Castiel said, unsure of the situation. As much as he could go on waxing poetic about Dean, he’d really rather not talk about him.

“Oh my god! I knew it was someone at this school, but I didn’t imagine it was _you_ he’s been waxing poetic about!” she grinned and leaned forward to place all the chair’s legs on the ground before turning to face them, “Totally makes sense though.”

Castiel could see Hanna’s smirk at Charlie’s comment out of the corner of his eye. Instead he frowned at Charlie, “Waxing poetic?”

Charlie grinned, “Oh yeah. He won’t shut up about you,” she got a dreamy look in her eye as she continued to mock her absent friend, “You and your voice that sounds like gravel, and your hair that’s even softer than it looks,” she put her hand over her heart and sighed dramatically.

Castiel did his best not to blush and failed miserably when Hanna burst out laughing, “I see, very busy tutoring,” she shot him a look.

“I am tutoring him,” Castiel protested.

“In what? Phys. Ed.?” Hanna said mercilessly, and Charlie roared with laughter, loud enough to be shushed by Marvin, the librarian.

Castiel blushed an even deeper shade of red, “ _No_!”

Charlie smirked, “Maybe he’s the one doing the tutoring in that?” she pulled her chair over to them to avoid leaning over the back of it.

Hanna laughed, “I can’t believe you’re dating him, that’s such a cliché, Cas. When did your life turn into a romantic comedy?”

Castiel started gathering his papers, mostly to do something with his hands and not have to face either of the girls.

“Who’s Ryan Gosling and who’s Emma Stone?” Charlie asked, making Hanna lean her forehead on Charlie’s shoulder in laughter.

“It’s… not like that,“ Castiel mumbled, putting his papers away in his bag, blush burning in his cheeks still. He hadn’t told Hanna about him and Dean because they’d both always been single and always agreed that high school boys were stupid. He wanted to keep his relationship with Dean to himself. Especially since they were just making fun of him. “I’m just helping him pass.”

“Oh sure,” one of them said, giggling.

Castiel got up, folding his coat over his arm and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “I have to go.” And then he made for the exit despite Mrs. Barnes protests that study hall wasn’t over.

He made his way down the hall in long strides. There was one more class left of the day after this, and then Dean was coming to pick him up, and he’d promised ice cream at the mall. At least Castiel didn’t share that class with anyone he talked to.

“Cas!” Hanna yelled after him, and Castiel stopped and turned to see her running towards him, "Wait up!”

She rested her hands on her knees to catch her breath before standing up, “Did I upset you?”

Castiel shifted on his feet. He felt ridiculous now, “… No.”

“I didn’t mean to mock you,” she told him.

He found it hard to meet her eyes, “Then what was so funny?” he asked, voice quiet.

Hanna chewed on her lip, staring at him while she thought. “It’s not funny. It’s cute. I’m glad you have a crush… But you’re not taking it seriously, right?”

Castiel didn’t say anything, just stubbed his toe into the floor.

“You’re not really, Cas? It’s high school, he’s just a teenage boy,” she said, like it really didn’t mean anything.

“So am I, Hanna. And it’s not like I’m planning my whole life with him. He’s just… nice,” Castiel deflated. He couldn’t tell her what he thought about Dean. She’d never take him seriously.

“Well, that’s good,” Hanna put her hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad for you, I am, Cas. I just thought we agreed on this.”

Castiel frowned. He didn’t want to fight with his best friend, “We _do_. Dean’s just- it’s not serious, okay? It’s just high school, I’m just tutoring him.”

Hanna smiled then, “Okay. Do you want to come over tonight and we can peer review our papers for English?”

Castiel sighed. He already had plans with Dean. But they were not going to study today, and Castiel had been slacking since the new development in their relationship. He’d just text him to reschedule. “Okay.”

 

He didn’t feel great for the rest of the day. Not while studying with Hanna and not while ignoring Dean’s texts all night. And not the next day either when Dean told him he had gotten an A in biology and he couldn’t reply because Hanna wanted to compare answers before chemistry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are liking this! It's not really turning into the story I pictured in my head prior to writing but I'm too far in to turn around now...


	6. Chapter 6

Dean had gotten his first A that wasn’t for P.E. since… well, ever. It felt good to have the hard work pay off, especially since Crowley had looked pretty sour at having to hand back a paper with a big fat A on the top to Dean of all people.

Even so, it was a little embarrassing to have his mother hang his report card on the fridge, next to Sam’s which was all A’s. At least his part in the show wasn’t in jeopardy anymore.

He had told Cas, who hadn’t actually replied. But Dean knew he was busy with the debate team on Thursdays, so he didn’t think about it. He was a little forgetful in that adorable genius way.

The only downside was that while he was sitting in the kitchen with his mom, eating the celebratory cookies, she had brought up the obvious.

“I suppose I can call off the tutor now,” she smiled over her glass of milk, like Dean would be happy about it.

“I guess,” he shrugged. He was seeing Castiel most days now anyway, and Dean was sure the nerd would still make him do homework even if he wasn’t actually his tutor anymore so he figured it wouldn’t change anything. He hoped it didn’t. Other than the fact that Castiel wouldn’t be _paid_ to hang out with Dean twice a week.

Mom gave him a look for a few moments, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, “I kind of got the impression you haven’t been getting too much tutoring done lately anyway,” she smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes, hoping to distract his own traitorous blood from making him blush, “You clearly don’t know Cas,” he mumbled.

“You’re right. Invite him over for dinner,” Mom said too fast, like she’d been scheming for this.

Dean stuffed the rest of his cookie into his mouth to make his escape without further comment. He sent her a thumbs-up, nodding and then gestured that he had to get going.

Mom just laughed at his antics.

 

-

 

They were sitting in Dean’s mom’s car outside Castiel’s house later that night. They had been on a date and then made out in an empty field a little out of town until Dean had to risk a speeding ticket to get Castiel home before his curfew.

But now they were just sitting there, watching the minutes flip further past his curfew on the dashboard clock.

“My mom says I don’t need tutoring anymore,” Dean told Castiel, hands on his own thighs.

Castiel was turned in his seat, facing Dean, “You don’t.”

Dean rolled one finger over the bottom of the steering wheel, fidgeting, “We’re still gonna hang, right?”

Castiel had an open expression on his face but Dean had a hard time facing him. Dean knew this went way beyond tutoring already but he somehow still found himself nervous.

“Of course, Dean. I might not have as much time, but we won’t stop seeing each other.”

Dean frowned at the wheel and then finally turned his head to look at Castiel, “Why won’t you have time?”

Castiel ran a finger across the rubber where the window disappeared into the car door, “I have to give your slots to another student.”

Dean’s stomach tightened, and he raised his eyebrows at Castiel. He knew the next words out of his mouth were going to be unfair, but he could do nothing to stop them, “Oh, so you don’t have time when my mom’s not paying you?” 

“What?” Castiel recoiled, “No, that’s not what this is about at all, how can you say that?”

Dean frowned harder, a headache creeping across his forehead as he looked at Castiel, “You’re the one who just said you don’t have time if I’m not buying it!” he tried to ignore how his voice rose in volume, unproportionate in the small space of the car. He wasn’t sure why he was trying for a fight in this way.

It got to Castiel then, and with an angry set to his jaw he had a hard time keeping his own voice down, “That’s not true! I just can’t see you every Monday afternoon and Saturday morning because I have to give your allotted time to someone else.” 

Having Castiel raise his voice just made Dean contrite. He leaned back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. He tried not to feel like a petulant child, “Seriously? You’re seriously gonna be like that? Just because my mom’s not paying you to tutor her stupid son anymore, you’re just gonna move on to the next dumb kid?”

Castiel’s features softened and he leaned closer, putting a hand on Dean’s arm, “Dean, what are you talking about?”

Dean resisted the temptation to either shake Castiel’s arm off or to turn around and pull him into a hug. Instead he remained still, voice low, “Doesn’t matter. I don’t really have time either, anyway. So thanks for tutoring me and I guess I’ll see you around.”

Castiel pulled his hand back and gaped at Dean. Dean turned towards the wheel, away from Cas.

“Dean-“

“It’s past your curfew,” Dean said, eyes focused on the road in front of him.

Castiel grabbed the handle on the car door, getting ready to leave. He turned back to Dean once more, wanting to say something but changing his mind. Then he got out and before he had a chance to say goodbye, Dean drove off, pulling the door closed.

 

Dean tried his hardest not to slam any doors for the next week and instead put all his frustrations and heartbreak into rehearsals. So much so that Mrs. Engel eventually had to tell him to take a day off before he’d get an injury if he kept going.

-

“Have you finished the flashcards for English?” Hanna asked, scribbling math problems in her notebook.

Castiel stopped chewing on his pencil and looked at her, “Uh… No. I guess I’ll do it today.”

Without looking up Hanna replied: “Do you want to practice the answers together tonight?” Then she looked up at him, “Oh right, you have tutoring on Mondays. Tomorrow, then?”

“I’m not tutoring him anymore,” Castiel told her.

“Oh,” Hanna said, “Did his mom find out about you two or something?” a glint in her eye was all that gave her humor away.

Castiel tried for a half-smile but it was a lame attempt, “He got his grades up.”

Hanna looked at him but when he didn’t share anything on his own she just mumbled, “Good for him.”

They went back to their homework then for a while, until Hanna sat back up to look at him, “What happened?”

Castiel flattened down the middle of his textbook, “Nothing,” he shrugged.

“Okaaay,” Hanna leaned back in her chair, still trying to get Castiel to at least somewhat engage in their conversation. “Are you going to get another student to tutor?”

“I don’t think so,” Castiel replied, still mostly preoccupied with fingering the pages of his book.

“Did you make enough money to buy the ticket?” Hanna asked.

Castiel finally perked up a little at that, “Yes. We should book those soon.”

“We can go do it now,” Hanna suggested, and when Castiel agreed they packed up their things and made for the computer lab.

There weren’t many people in there. A few students making a PowerPoint and a T.A. printing compendiums. Charlie Bradbury was sitting on the next row, either playing roleplaying games or photoshopping incriminating pictures of her friends.

They sat down on the row across from Charlie, a few computers down, and Hanna logged on.

As they waited for the homescreen to show, Hanna swirled in her chair to face Castiel, “So what about Dean?”

Castiel swallowed. He’d hoped she wouldn’t ask. He shrugged.

Hanna looked intently at him, completely disregarding how he avoided making eye contact, “Cas.”

“I’m… not sure. We haven’t spoken in a while,” Castiel said.

Hanna nodded slowly, “Well, you weren’t really serious, were you? Wasn’t it just because you were tutoring him?”

Castiel looked down at his lap and shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess.”

They conversation was briefly interrupted when Charlie sat down in a chair next to them, “Wait what? You broke up with Dean?”

“I’m... Not sure,” Castiel admitted despite how much he didn’t want to talk about it.

Charlie gave him a look, “You’re _not sure_? If you did, I’mma have to call him. He’d be heartbroken.”

“I believe I’m the one who should be calling him,” Castiel admitted. He’d thought about it all weekend but had a hard time mustering up the courage. Actually, he’d been spending a lot of energy trying not to look at his phone at all.

Charlie gave him a look like she agreed, and before she could say anything the bell sounded so she send them a peace sign instead as she got up, “Gotta go. Devereaux won’t have a problem writing me up if I’m late again.”

“See you,” Hanna said and Castiel nodded at her. 

As she made her exit she called out, “Call him!”

Hanna turned to him while they collected their things, “You’re really upset?”

Castiel shrugged and tried to make his hands stop shaking so he could zip his bag.

“Cas, it’s okay if you are. I just didn’t realize it was a big deal,” she said.

“It was. It _is_. Or was?” Castiel shook his head at himself, “It still important to me, but I’m not sure if he’ll talk to me.”

They started making their way out of the computer lab towards their next class, “Do as Charlie says: call him.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say. I’m not even sure he would pick up,” Castiel told her.

“I think you’re worrying too much. Didn’t you hear Charlie?” Hanna asked and when Castiel just shrugged she sighed, “Okay, guess not. How about going to his house? Or his show?”

Castiel looked up at her then. Dean’s show. It was soon. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about it. “His show?”

“Isn’t it premiering this Thursday? I think I’ve seen the posters at the community center,” Hanna said. “We should go.”

“You’d go with me?”

Hanna shrugged, “Of course. Unless you’d rather go alone?”

“No!” Castiel said too fast, “No, thanks. I appreciate it, thanks Hanna.”

She smiled at him and even managed to get them tickets and a ride to the academy that Thursday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be one more chapter to this. 
> 
> Honestly, I don't know if it's because I started writing this at a time when I really didn't have time to invest in making this into what I wanted it to be, but I feel so removed from this story. I hope some of you got some sort of joy out of it lol. maybe one day I'll make a spin-off oneshot of what this initially looked like in my mind's eye.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel plans a gesture

“So what exactly is the plan? You’re gonna barge in mid-show and declare your grand gay love?” Charlie asked, leaning over the shoulder of Castiel’s seat in shotgun from where she was sitting in the backseat.

Hanna snorted at the suggestion but kept her eyes on the road.

Castiel fiddled with the single rose in his hand, careful to avoid prickling his fingers on the thorns. He felt kind of cheesy, but it was theater tradition, wasn’t it? Bringing roses on opening night?

“I… don’t know. I think I will just give him the rose after the show,” Castiel mumbled.

“What, like when all the parents and shit are giving everyone roses?” Charlie asked.

Castiel shrugged, “I suppose.”

Hanna sighed, “What a gesture.”

Castiel glared at her out of the corner of his eye but she didn’t see.

“Did you even tell him you’re going?” Hanna asked.

Castiel shook his head, muttering a small “No” under his breath.

“Op, looks like we’re here,” Charlie said and got out of the car before Hanna had even turned it off. Hanna got out as well and looked at Castiel through the open car door.

“You coming?” she asked.

Castiel kept his gaze fixed on the rose, “… I'd rather not.”

“Coward,” she said and closed the door. The two girls started making their way towards the front entrance and Castiel cursed under his breath before getting out and running to catch up to them.

They had been running late, which may have been on purpose, so they did not get a chance to look for Dean before the show started. They just made their way to the gymnasium and found empty seats, a little too close to the stage for Castiel’s comfort.

The show started and Castiel’s breath was taken away by the brilliance of Dean’s performance. He had never seen him dance or act before, and while he logically knew that Dean would have to be talented to not only be attending the academy but to occupy one of the leading roles in the academy’s performance of the year as well, he had never considered that fact before.

He almost wanted to just go up on stage right then and pull Dean to him and kiss him, and tell him that he’d always have time for him. Nothing would ever be more important.

Or maybe not on the actual stage… Castiel could barely give an in-class presentation without sweating or stumbling over his words. But he wanted to apologize and make up, and he wanted to do it sooner rather than later.

There was a break after what felt like five minutes to Castiel, who had been sitting mesmerized by Dean’s movements, but what was actually 45 minutes.

“Do you think I can talk to him now?” Castiel said.

Hanna hesitated, “You sure the break is a good time? Doesn’t he have to, like, stay focused?”

“Screw that!” Charlie said, “Focus isn’t Dean’s forte anyway. Let’s go find him!”

“Wait, you’re coming?” Castiel asked her.

“Sure, I’m your buffer,” she explained.

When they looked at Hanna she shook her head, “Oh no. I’ll watch our seats.” She was never one for drama anyway.

Charlie lead the way into the hallway and through to the locker rooms, greeting people as she went. After asking around for a bit, they were finally directed to Dean.

He was in the locker room, talking to a girl while helping her tie up the satin ribbons on the back of her dress.

Castiel stopped behind a row of lockers, out of Dean’s view, and grabbed Charlie’s arm, “Wait,” he whispered.

“What?” Charlie whispered back.

“You talk to him first. I don’t want to distract him from his performance in case he doesn’t want to see me,” Castiel explained.

Charlie frowned at him, “Of course he wants to see you, you dumbass.”

Castiel just waved her off and she rolled her eyes before going. Castiel couldn’t see them but he could hear them rather clearly.

“Hey prince charming,” she greeted Dean.

“Oh, so I’ve been upgraded from handmaiden?” Dean replied.

Charlie huffed, “For the night.”

“I'm honored,” Dean mumbled.

“So… How’s it going? The show is fantastic,” Charlie started.

There was some ruffling with costumes and the girl Dean had been helping made her way around the corner. Castiel turned towards the locker he’d been leaning on, wildly fascinated by the lock for a few seconds. She didn’t seem to notice him at all.

Dean answered, “Yeah, it’s going alright. I mean it’s not perfect, but opening night never is. No major fuck-ups from any department yet though. Victor’s ankle was acting up last night, but I think he’s doing okay.”

“Shut up, everything looks great!” Charlie said. They were silent for several seconds, Dean presumably fixing his costume and makeup while Charlie schemed. “So how are you feeling?”

Dean sighed, “Do you have to bring it up right now?”

“No, I don’t _have_ to. But I’m your friend and I _care_!” Charlie spieled. Castiel could imagine the hand on her heart as she spoke.

He could imagine Dean rolling his eyes as well. “Listen, I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I just wanna get through opening night, go home and, I don’t know, eat Oreos and cry, and then deal with this fucked up situation later.”

“When you say ‘deal with it’…?” Charlie prompted.

Dean sighed again, “I don’t know, Charlie. I guess get over it, watch the Notebook. Shit like that.”

Castiel’s heart sank.

“So you don’t even wanna talk to him?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know what to say,” Dean said.

Castiel tried to keep his hands from shaking.

“What if he has something to say?” Charlie asked. 

Dean was silent for a moment, “… What if he does?”

“Well, would you listen?” Charlie asked.

Castiel held his breath, the seconds seeming to stretch for eternity as he listened for Dean’s answer.

Dean took a deep breath, “I don’t want to break up. I want him, and he doesn’t feel the same way. So I’m not sure I would. It’d be too hard to just sit there while he tells me that I put too much into it, and I was just some stupid kid he was tutoring to him.”

“Dean, you’re an idiot. He doesn’t feel that way,” Charlie said.

Castiel felt almost sick at hearing that that was what Dean thought.

Dean didn’t say anything for a while so Charlie reassured him, “He doesn’t think that. He feels the same way you do.”

Castiel felt almost faint as he kept holding his breath in anticipation. Surely, Dean couldn't believe that Castiel didn’t feel the same way about Dean.

“Dean!” Charlie said when he again didn’t reply.

“I’ll think about it. I have to get ready, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he said.

“Okay. Break a leg,” she said and they hugged.

Then she came back around the corner and her and Castiel left the locker room.

“He thinks I don’t love him?” Castiel said as they plopped back into their seats.

“What did he say?” Hanna asked.

“He thinks I don’t love him,” Castiel repeated to the rose in his lap.

Charlie leaned around him to look at Hanna, “Basically, he’s scared to talk to Cas, and he’s a little preoccupied with the premiere of his grand show right now to think clearly.”

“Wait, you didn’t even talk to him?” Hanna asked Cas. 

He shook his head, “He doesn’t even want to see me.”

Charlie huffed and rolled her eyes, “Cas, come on. Dean doesn’t mean that. He just has a flair for dramatics, you know that.”

Castiel didn’t say anything but he had to admit to himself that Dean did have that tendency.

“He’s just stressed out because you guys are fighting on top of this being his most important show so far. After the show when he’s gotten all the praise his ego needs, and the adrenaline has worn off, he’ll be fine.” Charlie reassured Castiel.

Castiel mulled it over. Maybe the break in-between two acts of Dean’s show wasn’t the most obvious time and place to be making up. There were scouts from some of the performing arts colleges, Dean had told him. Dean didn't need the distraction.

“Find him after the show, Cas. He’ll want to see you then,” Charlie assured him. Before he could reply the lights dimmed for the second time and the curtain went up.

The second and final act was just as magnificent as the first one, and Castiel made up his mind about talking to Dean that night. After the show, he would wait. Until all of Dean’s friends and his family and his peers had congratulated him, and after he’d celebrated with his co-performers in the locker room, after everyone had left. Castiel would wait until then, and he’d find Dean as he was leaving, and he’d explain.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel’s grand romantic ending did not go according to plan. He had let Charlie and Hanna go, meaning his ride was gone. Then he’d lingered in the hallways until he got creepy stares for not talking to anyone and sweating bullets while mumbling to himself.

He had been so caught up in trying to find the right words that by the time he even noticed that the crowd in the hallways had been thinning out if not completely gone, Dean had been nowhere to find, and his rose had been quickly wilting. Eventually some guy informed him that Dean had already left with the other performers to go celebrate.

Castiel was disappointed that he had missed him but found himself somewhat glad that Dean had opted for celebration rather than Oreos and the Notebook in solitude.

Now Castiel was left without a ride at 9pm and an aching heart in the empty hallway of Dean’s school. He couldn’t even call his mom because his phone had been dead since that afternoon. At least he had plenty of time to meditate on what exactly to say to Dean on his walk home, he thought to himself, trying to remain at least a little positive. If he didn’t, he was sure he’d be crying before he was halfway home, and he could do without crying in public, thank you very much.

He should have told Dean he was coming, Castiel thought as he started his walk. At least then Castiel could have known not to let Hanna and Charlie leave without him.

He didn’t know when he’d next be able to meet Dean. He worried that if he called Dean, he simply wouldn’t pick up the phone, especially after what he’d said to Charlie that night.

But surely Dean would read a message. Right? If Castiel could just find a way to formulate exactly what to say. Or he could get Charlie to deliver a message. But he’d rather not drag her too much into it.

The whole thing had already been blown out of proportion, Castiel felt. He had never meant to make Dean feel like he wasn’t important to Castiel, and at this point so much time had passed that the issue had become bigger than it had to be. Castiel knew, logically, that it was just a misunderstanding, magnified in severity due to time. But he also knew that Dean didn’t know that. 

For some reason Castiel couldn’t fathom, Dean really thought that Castiel didn’t love him, and that he was just some student he had been tutoring. Castiel found it hard to believe and was disappointed in himself if he had treated Dean in a way that would really make him feel insignificant.

The more Castiel thought about it, the more urgent it became for him to talk to Dean. He contemplated going to his house instead of his own, but he wasn’t sure what ‘celebrating’ entailed so he couldn’t be sure that Dean was even there.

Even if he was at home, it would be much too late in the evening for uninvited drop-ins.

Castiel contemplated all this while he walked, and luckily, he knew the way home without too much stopping to look at road signs. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice a car slowing down next to him until the driver honked the horn once, making Castiel jump.

Dean was looking at him through the open window with a surprised look, “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, sounding confused.

Castiel came to a stop. It felt kind of cosmic that Dean should be here now, talking to Castiel, when Castiel wanted nothing more than to talk to him, but at the same time hadn’t a clue where to begin.

He figured he’d start with answering Dean’s immediate question, so he gestured to the sidewalk in front of him with the half-dead rose, “Uhm… Walking.”

“At ten thirty in the evening? You’re just out for a stroll?” Dean asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

“No, I- uh… I’m just on my way home,” Castiel explained. Dean didn’t know that Castiel had been at his show, and Castiel suddenly felt shy and embarrassed at having to come clean about it when he hadn’t even talked to him and had just let Charlie do it.

Dean squinted at him, contemplating, “… Were you at the show?”

Castiel looked down at his hands, “Yes,” he looked up at Dean, determined, “You were great.”

Dean looked caught off-guard at the compliment, like he hadn’t expected Castiel to comment on the show or his performance. Like that wasn’t where he had intended this conversation to go. “Thanks.”

Castiel nodded once.

“So, did you start a new workout regime, or is there another reason you’re walking in the middle of the night?” Dean asked then.

Castiel almost rolled his eyes affectionally. Ten thirty was hardly the middle of the night, even if it was past his usual bedtime. “I uh… I was waiting for you, so my ride left.”

Dean gestured towards himself with one hand, “Get in then.”

Castiel hesitated, “Are you sure?” He shot a look in the direction he was going, “It’s not that far now.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Just get in, okay? Please?”

Castiel’s nonexistent resolve broke and he walked the few steps forward and opened the door. Before getting in, he looked at Dean again, “You’re sure? I’ll be fine walking if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Dean sighed, “Can you stop? I… I wanna talk to you. I miss you.”

That was enough for Castiel to finally get in the car and close the door after him. “I’ve missed you too.”

Dean swallowed, “Really?” He glanced down before looking back up at Castiel, “I thought I’d fucked it all up.”

Castiel frowned, “ _You?_ I thought _I_ was the one who had ruined everything.”

“No, Cas,” Dean looked at the steering wheel. He wasn’t driving yet. “I shouldn’t have assumed what I did. I was stressed out and am an idiot in general. So I’m sorry.”

Castiel almost reached for him but caught himself at the last second, “I’m sorry too. For making you feel like you were just someone I was tutoring, or just a student job. You never were. You were - you _are_ so much more.”

Dean smiled at him then, “I’d have to be for you to take precious study time out of your nerd schedule to come see my show, wouldn’t I?” he asked softly.

Castiel just grinned. Butterflies were welling up inside his stomach and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull Dean to him. To kiss him again. But the nerves of anticipation froze him, and he could only grin like an idiot at Dean, who was grinning back.

“Come here,” Dean finally said, and they reached for each other to finally press against each other. How little they could reach across the seats anyway, but as long as Dean’s lips were finally on Castiel’s, he couldn’t bother to complain. At least not for a while.

They parted after a moment and gazed at each other. Dean looked beautiful in the light from the street lamp filtering in through the windshield. His eyes were searching Castiel’s face, or maybe just taking it in. Castiel definitely felt observed.

He suddenly felt shy under Dean’s soft look and smile, and he broke eye contact, fiddling with the rose in his hand. He twirled it between his fingers before realizing why he’d bought it in the first place.

“Oh!” Castiel exclaimed and held the rose out, “This is for you. Congratulations on the show.” A few petals fell off and floated to the car floor.

Dean raised an eyebrow at it before meeting Castiel’s eyes.

“I- uh, I didn’t buy it like that,” Castiel said, and Dean just threw his head back in laughter.

Castiel frowned at him, “I’m trying to be romantic.”

Dean looked at him and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s very sweet of you,” he grinned and accepted the rose.

Castiel rolled his eyes before turning a sober look at Dean, “Am I forgiven?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Cas,” Dean said softly, a finger trailing along the curve of the steering wheel. 

“But?” Castiel asked, sensing that Dean wanted to say something else.

Dean took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before meeting Castiel’s eyes. “Where do we stand?”

Castiel swallowed, “I- I love you.” He looked briefly down to his lap before meeting Dean’s eyes again, “You’re not just a student I was tutoring. You probably never were if I have to be honest.”

A soft smile spread across Dean’s lips, “I love you too.”

After a moment Dean shook himself out of whatever mutual daze they’d engaged in and finally started the car, “I suppose I should get you home.”

Castiel thanked him and before long they were stopping in front of Castiel’s house. What would had been another 45 minutes by foot had taken 10 short minutes by car and Castiel was grateful that Dean had shown up for more reasons than one.

They turned to each other and Castiel hesitated. Dean leaned towards him and kissed him. Castiel got over himself and stuttered out, “Would you like to come inside?”

Dean looked surprised but smiled. He looked briefly past Castiel to the house behind him. Castiel’s mom was still awake, he could tell by the lights on first floor all being on.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Dean,” he ran his fingers over Dean’s knuckles, “Always.”


End file.
